


Reindeer Pajamas and Bunny Slippers. Only.

by jfcmartin



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, fire alarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jfcmartin/pseuds/jfcmartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil has a new neighbor across the hall. What's a better way to introduce himself other than in the middle of a possible fire whilst half-naked?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reindeer Pajamas and Bunny Slippers. Only.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you guys its a me Florenz you're absolute fave writer! This is my first ever proper Phandom fic (which is btw so rushed and lame) and I hope I get the motivation to write every single idea I have! 
> 
> This fic isn't beta-d or brit-picked so if you wanna then u gotta ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Phil heard excessive noises coming from the hallway, and he didn’t have the energy to go out and look for the source. His only logical explanation was that tenant across his flat moved to California a couple of days ago. Maybe this was the new replacement.

He had no comment about it. The only kind of interaction they ever got was crossing paths in the hallway or a morning greeting when Phil goes to Tesco while he jogged around the complex. He didn’t even ask for his name in any of those instances. The only name that registered when Phil saw him was ‘Doug’, since that’s how his obnoxious friends would call him from the other side of the hallway. It was a sleepless night for Phil when they stay up at his flat. He was dreading that the new tenant will be just as loud, if not worse.

Without even meeting the tenant, Phil could tell that he was very clumsy, since he heard a very loud thud followed by a string of curse words. The poor thing probably dropped their moving box.  _ Did they even bring movers at all? _ Phil thought.

“This is what you get for not getting movers, Dan,” Phil heard, as if answering his question. Phil was intrigued and listened to what was happening outside. Phil hasn’t even seen his neighbor but he already knew his name. He considered this as a sign of a new budding friendship, as pathetic and lonely he might sound. His only friends were PJ and Chris, and probably the old lady at Starbucks if that counts.

Phil finally got the motivation to stand up, setting his laptop aside and wearing his bunny slippers. He strode quietly towards the door and looked through the peephole. The door across his was wide open and the flat was filled with three boxes stacked up and one tipped over with its contents scattered on the floor. It must be the one Dan dropped earlier. He heard heavy footsteps to his left and a figure emerged, trying to balance a box with a duvet on top of it, covering his entire view.

Dan’s patted the wall with his left leg, probably trying to find his door. Phil chuckled at how ridiculous he looked. When his foot finally went through the door, he turned and went inside, plopping the box and duvet on the ground with a puff. He straightened his back and tried to catch his breath. Phil couldn’t blame him, they were in the fourth landing after all. 

Dan’s face was covered with his hoodie, which was completely unnecessary in his opinion, so Phil haven’t got the slightest idea what he looked like. All he knew is that he had an obsession with the color black. Phil debated if he should go out and introduce himself. What if he was as terrible as Doug? What if he was actually a serial killer? Should he just come out and help him unload and go with the ‘ _ Hi, hello, good morning _ ’ arrangement?

Before Phil could even come up with another question, Dan came back with a backpack and two smaller boxes on his hands. He was probably almost done. He dropped them on the other big box and went back to the staircase again. 

Phil thought he could just wait for him to finish to introduce himself. He jogged across the room and checked the mirror on his coffee table. He fixed his fringe and checked if he had anything in between his teeth. He wasn’t satisfied and was about to go to the loo and brush his teeth when he heard loud banging noises from outside.

It sounds like a dinosaur going up the stairs. He placed the mirror back on the table and crept towards the door. It was silent for a moment. Phil started pacing around the room and passed by his full body mirror. He noticed a huge coffee stain on his stomach. He sighed and decided to get changed as the banging noises resumed. 

He rummaged through his dresser to find something decent, but casual enough that it won’t be obvious that he just changed. He found a blue shirt with planets on it, crumpled it on his fist to make it less neat, and wore it. He jogged back towards the door and saw that the door across his was shut. He decided that he will just try again some other time.

* * *

Phil woke up to the sound of sirens and beeping. He groaned and covered his head with his pillow in attempt to mute out his surroundings. He needed some sleep, damnit. He heard heavy footsteps from outside, he could tell there were lots of people.

“Are there anyone else left in the building?” Phil heard someone ask, and that made him shot out of his bed. He headed for the door and looked at the peephole. There were four firemen escorting a woman towards the stairs. Oh.

He opened the door and followed behind them. Once they exited the building, he saw two fire trucks positioned around the area, people standing half asleep away from them. He crossed his arms to keep warm, it was probably zero degrees out there. He turned around and looked for the actual fire taking place, but he couldn’t see anything. 

He took a quick glance at the people around him. Some were giving him dirty looks and some were giggling and waving at him. Phil didn’t have the energy or the mind to ask them what’s wrong with him. If he had a quiff, then he couldn’t care less. It wasn’t his fault his bed tends to do miraculous things to his hair when he’s asleep.

He watched firemen coming out of the fire truck in front of him and his eyes lingered to a guy standing right beside it. He was gawking at his chest for some reason. Phil looked down and finally realized: he had no shirt on. That explained why he’s so cold. At least he had his reindeer pajamas and bunny slippers, that kept him warm in the lower department.

He decided to approach the man, whose eyes were still trailing along his naked torso. Phil cleared his throat and said, “My face is right here.”

The man jumped and blushed really hard, he felt sorry for him. He muttered, “Sorry.”

Phil chuckled. “That’s alright. You aren’t the only one doing that right now.” He gestured at the people surrounding them, and the man made an awkward laugh. Phil scanned the crowd staring at him, narrowing their eyes at them and made them turn away. He wasn’t used to this much attention. Maybe it was because he never went outside without a shirt on. But there’s always a first for everything.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt again?” he asked. 

Phil shrugged and replied, “I don’t know. I just felt like it? The flats are probably burning so that could be an excellent source of heat!”

The man rolled his eyes and said, “I can do without the sarcasm. I’m Dan, by the way.”

The name sounded familiar to Phil, when he suddenly remembered where he last heard it. And no, it wasn’t the guy that made mash-ups on YouTube. While rubbing his hands together and placing them on his cheeks, Phil said, “Really? Like, the new one in the third floor?”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows, “How did you know?”

“I live in the flat across yours! You do realize you were making a riot in the hallway, right?” he explained, now rubbing his hands on his arms. It was starting to get windy, and it wasn’t doing any help with his situation right now. He was relieved he even decided to put on pajamas, since he was used to sleeping naked.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Phil,” he offered his hand and Dan shook it. Of course, Phil didn’t want to introduce himself to his new neighbor half naked, but it was too late to change things now. A fireman walked past them and winked at Phil, which made him very uncomfortable. 

Dan rolled his eyes and unzipped his black jacket, which was over a black t-shirt. It confirmed his obsession for the color black. He shrugged it off and handed it to Phil. He said, “Take this.”

“Oh, but how about you?” 

“You’re freezing your tits off and you’re worried about me?” Dan asked dryly. Phil smiled meekly and muttered a thanks before putting it on. Luckily, they were almost the same size, so it wasn’t too tight or loose on him. He zipped it up and did a thumbs up. Phil felt much better now, and less conscious of himself.

“D’you know what happened?” Phil asked. He realized that he didn’t even bother asking why they started evacuating in the first place. Was there even a fire? 

“I don’t really know. I asked one of the firemen and they said some teenager tried cooking bacon and his pan set on fire,” he explained. “Which could be me at some point, at least he managed to fuck up first before I did.” 

Phil giggled and asked, “You don’t know how to cook?” 

“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing!” he said defensively. “Can you?”

Phil thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I can make pancakes, does that count?” He used to make pancakes and searched hundreds of recipes online on how to make different flavors of pancakes. They might not be perfect circles, but they were edible. He tried making British pancakes once, his friend PJ finished all of them before he could even take a bite.

Dan’s eyes lit up and he said, “I love pancakes!” Phil mentally gave himself a high five for mentioning this. At least he had something to brag about. “Do you make them from scratch?” he asked.

Phil nodded, rather pleased with himself. “I’m a chicken, you see,” he joked and wagged his eyebrows.

His pun earned a deep sigh from Dan and a punch in the arm. “Give me back my jacket, you deserve to freeze to death,” he said and tried to hide his smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” People started going back in the complex, the fire was probably taken care of. The firemen started to walk back to their trucks, Phil jokingly saying that they were going back to the bat cave. Everyone looked like mindless zombies as they walked back to their own flats and into their beds as if nothing happened. Dan and Phil, however, were having a casual discussion about pancake recipes and their mutual obsession for Delia Smith.

“I tried making one of her brownies once,” Dan said, chuckling at the memory. “But turns out it said 2/3 cup of all purpose flour instead of 2-3, so I ended up putting two and a half cups and they became crusty rocks instead.”

“Well at least you didn’t mistake Fahrenheit for Celsius,” Phil countered. He made the poor decision to try other recipes other than Delia Smith. He didn’t realize that he used an American recipe, so the unit of measurement for the oven settings were in Fahrenheit. Of course, 375 degrees Celsius didn’t strike a bit of suspicion, so he cranked the oven up to 375.

Dan placed his hand on Phil’s shoulder as they made their way up the stairs. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

He nodded and said, “Thanks.” They reached the third landing and they turned to their respective flats. Phil turned the knob of his door and it didn’t budge. “Oh no.” He searched for keys in his pockets, only to realize that he didn’t even have any pockets. 

Dan looked at him sympathetically and chuckled. “You didn’t bring any keys?” He shook his own key teasingly in front of Phil’s face. It was attached to a keyring and a small replica of a blobfish.

“Take a wild guess, buddy,” he slumped back on his door and slid down, sitting on his feet. He yawned and closed his eyes, accepting that he will be staying there for the rest of the evening.

Phil was used to getting locked out of his flat; he was always so forgetful. He gave his friend PJ a spare key in case things get worse. He has ten more extras attached to an array of key chains to make it more visible for him to see in the morning. He’s probably gonna have to give one to make things easier for him.

Dan rolled his eyes and reached his hand down. “Come on, I have a folding bed if you wanna stay at my place for the night. We’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

Phil swatted his arm away and crossed his arms. “Thanks, but I’m good here.” He covered himself with the hood of Dan’s jacket and pulled its strings.

“You’re really hard to convince, are you? Come on, if it makes you feel any better; you’re cooking breakfast tomorrow,” he said as he pushed the hood off and ruffled Phil’s hair.

“Or later, if you think about it,” Phil supplied.

“Yeah. Now get inside. You’re gonna need to summon Delia Smith’s powers,” he cheered as he forcefully took Phil’s hand and pulled him up. He flashed a smile and unlocked the door to his flat, and probably the door to his life too. 

**Author's Note:**

> So? Tell me watcha think! Kudos and comments are gladly appreciated :)


End file.
